


Bleach-Blonde Buffoon

by geniuses



Category: Die Verwandlung | The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniuses/pseuds/geniuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Deconstruction of christian values.”</p>
<p>Oh lord, here we fucking go again.</p>
<p>Someone doesn't have the sense to just use Sparknotes like the rest of us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleach-Blonde Buffoon

"Alright, class, class, class!" shrilled an intimidating old woman, putting down her chalk eraser. "Excuse me, I don't believe I permitted you to pack up yet!"

Yoongi's blank eyes dragged themselves to the clock. It was only 1:30 - still a good twenty minutes from dismissal - and yet the students already pointed themselves to the door and bit their thumbs as they followed the spring of the seconds hand.

"Why, you don't think I would let you leave for winter break without a lil work, do you?" she cackled. “But with all this energy tensing up in here, I bet you could finish in ten minutes!”

She stopped a moment, freezing in her awkward smile. Nobody laughed.

“...ahem, anyways, I know you are all very enthusiastic about our in-class essays, but due to the new age wish-wash intoxicating our feeble administration, I’ve been prompted to attempt more, er, ‘creative’ teaching strategies. So, this time, we’re having a…” she cleared her throat; Yoongi thought he saw her eye twitch. “Group project!”

Several of the kids pulled their attention away from the sealed wooden door and scattered their glimpses among themselves, snickering. Even Yoongi couldn’t help but shoot a glance to his friend Taehyung in the corner. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad - or, at least as bad as an in-class essay. Taehyung gave him a wink.

“You will be making a simple presentation tracking the development of one theme in The Metamorphosis. It must be supported by at least two symbols or motifs, and the presentation is not to exceed twenty minutes. However, beyond this, you are largely left to your own devices.”

The teacher’s drone was gradually overcome by a wave of muttering around the classroom. She waved out her hand as if to flatten it. 

“Now, can anyone give me an example of a theme in the Metamorphosis?”

Yoongi felt like his face was melting off of his skull. 1:32:16. 1:32:17. Kids around the room threw out ideas as the teacher organized them on the board. “Sadness!” “Family!” “Betrayal!”. One smartass with Sparknotes open offered “the absurdity of life!” Everything was inching along slowly but smoothly, until...

“...Deconstruction of christian values.”

Oh lord, here we fucking go again. Yoongi didn’t need to turn around to know which pretentious asshole let that out - or to know that he was flashing his smug, self-righteous grin. It was none other than Namjoon, a 2edgy4u transfer student from the capital that tried to dominate every literature conversation with his faux-deep philosophy. Yoongi rolled his eyes and dug his fist into his cheek.

“Er, well, as long as you support it, I guess that works.” The teacher hesitated, then scribbled ‘religion’ in small print. She looked at her watch and motioned for the rest of the enthusiastic nerds to put their hands down. “Now that we’ve riled some ideas, I’ll give you the last few minutes to collaborate with your partners and plan some dates to meet up. Your partner assignments-” Fuck, of course there’s assignments- “will be posted on this sheet of paper in the front of the room.”

Everyone lined up, their eyes barely straying from the tile floor. Two girls squealed and high-fived each other in delight; Taehyung frowned at Yoongi and shrugged. Fantastic. At the very least maybe he’d be paired with a cute girl; he shuffled up to the list and traced the list of names with his finger. 

“Yoongi,” a low voice startled him from behind. He turned his neck to face him- a bleach-blonde buffoon with an arrogant smirk. _Of all fucking people…_

“N-namjoon. We’re partners?” _Okay, okay, maybe it won’t be that bad,_ Yoongi assured himself. _Worst comes to worst he can do the project his damn self._

“Yeah! What a power pair.” Namjoon pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled his number on it with a red crayola marker. 

“Ha.” Yoongi felt his hands turn red and curved his lips into a stiff smile. “Ha.”

“Call me by Saturday. I’m going to New Zealand for the rest of break, so we have to do it in the next couple of days.” Namjoon ruffled his hair with a weak smile and rushed off to grab his backpack.

God, Yoongi fucking hated him.


End file.
